The Yule Ball
by Slytherin Buttercat
Summary: Ron feels rejected. Hermione has gone to the Yule Ball with Krum and he is pretty sure it was just to spite him. For the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.


**QLFC Round 6-Deadly Sins and Heavenly Virtues**

 **Chaser 3 Holyhead Harpies**

 **Prompts: Write about a light character (Ron) committing the sin of wrath, (song) "Stitches" by Shawn Mendes, (dialogue) "Have I told you that I hate you recently?", (word) therapy**

 **Word Count: 1,815**

 **Thanks to my amazing beta Ever**

 **Slight AU**

* * *

 _Got a feeling that I'm going under…_

Ron can't help but helplessly watch as Hermione laughs with Krum. _Who does he even think he is?_ She leans her head on Krum's chest, and anger rushes through Ron's veins before he can even think about it, so much so that he's forced to look away. Why should _he_ get the girl? He's a professional Quidditch player, sure, but why should that mean everybody just _loves_ him? Ron had thought Hermione was above all that nonsense. He had thought...

Well, it doesn't matter what he thought anymore, as Hermione is currently dancing with Krum, and Ron himself is stuck all alone. Hermione doesn't belong with a guy like Krum, Ron can't help but think to himself. He'll only use her—to make himself feel better.

But Hermione surely deserves someone better.

Like himself...

Ron's hands ball into fists. Against his better judgement, he looks back to where Hermione and Krum are still happily embracing. What does Hermione even see in him? It's not like he, Krum, is anything special. Not _really._ So what if Krum can catch a Snitch? Harry can, too, and no one's clambering for his attention! Krum's nothing special, Ron firmly and stubbornly decides. He's just another boy who can catch a flying golden ball. _Big deal._

Somewhere, deep down, Ron knows his feelings are unwarranted; He knows it's just petty jealousy. But he can't help it. He just feels so… rejected. It somehow feels like Hermione deliberately went with Krum just to spite Ron. He feels like his heart has been violently torn out and ripped to shreds; it makes him want to break something. He wants to…

He wants to go over there and give Krum a piece of his mind. He wants to tell him the truth.

 _I'm left seeing red on my own…_

Krum leans in, looking like he's about to kiss Hermione, and Ron can see nothing but red as anger flares up inside him once more. Had _Krum_ helped to stop Voldemort in his first year? Did _Krum_ help to stop Voldemort in his second year? And what about in _his_ third year? Did _he_ find out he had a murderous rat? Of course, he hadn't; all he'd done was catch a stupid, small flying ball!

 _Ron,_ on the other hand, had done all of those things. He'd done plenty of courageous, dangerous, _heroic_ things. Catching a small ball wasn't life-threatening in the slightest. And what's more is that Hermione knew, well and truly, all Ron had accomplished; she'd lived through it all with him. And yet, Ron thinks spitefully, she's dancing with Viktor Krum—who is too idiotic to even dream of coming close to being the esteemed 'victor' of the Triwizard Tournament, no matter what his name suggests. Even _Ron_ is smarter than him, (and he's currently struggling with quite a few subjects—Potions, in particular).

Ron's feet seem to move of their own accord, carrying him over to the corner where Krum and Hermione are still laughing. Hermione leans her head against Krum's chest again, just as she did earlier. And, once more, Ron sees red.

 _You watch me bleed until I can't breathe…_

"I don't think he's right for you," Ron says, the words escaping his lips before he can even realise what he's doing. He's stood in front of Hermione, his hands still clenched into fists.

Hermione is more than a little taken aback. "You've absolutely no right to decide who I can be with, Ronald!" she says, her voice rising with every word. She looks mortified, whilst Krum, by her side, just looks confused.

"Of course, I do! I'm your friend!"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Hermione shrieks.

"I just"—Ron casts a wary eye towards Krum—"I just don't think…"

" _What?_ " Hermione demands, challenging him, _daring_ him.

Ron is starting to regret having said anything, but something stronger pushes through him—that same driving anger from before, coursing through his body like fire. He's barely said anything, but Hermione looks close to tears. If he weren't so angry, he might actually feel guilty.

"Have you forgotten everything I said before?" Ron hisses unsubtly, whilst Krum watches the scene continue to unfurl, still confused but also somewhat amused by it all. "About how we can't trust him? About how he's the _enemy?_ "

"Have I told you that I _hate_ you recently?" Hermione says, her tone sarcastic but her voice strained with the same anger Ron feels. "Because I really, _really_ do, right now."

 _Your words cut deeper than a knife…_

"What?" Ron asks, his voice full of indignation. He can't be sure whether she's joking or not.

"I. _Hate_. You! You think you can control me just because I'm your friend? _Ron_ , you're so infuriating sometimes, and I'm sick of it!"

Anger is still pulsing through Ron's body, each word Hermione says striking him like a hex. His judgement is clouded by his anger, he knows, and he can barely think rationally anymore (if he even was in the first place). But he's in too deep now. It's done; it's been said.

"I think you should leave," Krum says in his _stupid_ accent, his _stupid_ superiority lacing every word.

 _Deep breaths_. Ron counts to ten in his head. How can Hermione be so blinded? How can she not see that she should be with _him!_ "I—"

"Go!" Hermione growls.

Ron does so, because her tone is so fierce, so unforgiving, that he feels he owes it to her. And suddenly, he's _ashamed_. Deeply so. But he doesn't see the tears fall, hot and fast, from Hermione's eyes; All he can see is Hermione leaning into Krum's shoulder as he turns away, hating himself for the scene he's just caused.

 _Just like a moth drawn to a flame…_

What will he do if Hermione leaves him?—Ron can't help but panic. Harry will take her side; he always has. Ron's friendship with Harry and Hermione is like his therapy, and without them, he has nothing. He _is_ nothing. His friendship with them is what keeps him strong.

The ball passes by quickly, with Ron staring at the wall with a dark gaze. He won't lash out—not again; he won't strike something just because Hermione rejected him for another man. He's better than that.

But Ron slams his fist onto the table anyway, needing some kind of physical release for the anger that continues to bubble up through him. No one hears over the sound of music. The glass which was sitting there topples over, its contents spilling. The steady flow of the drink as it trickles out calms Ron, and he begins to think of an idea. He just wants to talk to her. It will all be worth it if Hermione just _listens_ to him.

 _If I quit calling you my lover…_

Ron waits for her in the Gryffindor Common Room. It seems as though Hermione takes forever to get there, but suddenly she _is_ , and a fresh wave of anger washes over him. He can't stop asking that same question: Why was she with _Krum?_

Ron steps out of the shadows.

"Ronald," Hermione sighs. Her voice is tired, and she herself looks exhausted. Of dancing?—Ron wonders. Or of arguing with him? "What do you want now?"

Ron forces the anger away as best as he can, trying to act humble and sincere. He owes it to Hermione, after all."I—I want to apologise. What I said was wrong, and I understand that now."

Subtle little lies, but they seem to work. Hermione looks deeply sceptical at first, but after a moment's consideration, pulls Ron into a hug, exhaustion getting the better of her.

"It's, ah, it's okay," Ron says, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder.

"He's so kind and just—a perfect gentleman," Hermione says in a quiet voice. Ron isn't sure why she's telling him any of this, nor how he really feels about it, but she's still hugging him, and it seems like they've made peace, and that's all that matters in that moment."But he hardly spoke, and I need someone who will talk back to me about interesting topics, you know?"

Ron doesn't know. He's also pretty sure he's not one of those people who can match Hermione's intelligence. What can he really offer her?

"—enjoyed my time, and he's so nice, but I just don't think it will work. He's too famous for me, and he lives so far away."

Ron thinks this is all a pack of lies. How can someone live too far away? If it matters, if it's real, distance shouldn't be an issue. But he doesn't point this out to Hermione. And, even if he's famous, nobody is _too famous_ for the amazing Hermione Granger. She deserves the best. Nobody will ever be too good for her.

Ron attempts to voice these thoughts, but they come out somewhat mumbled and awkward, and he's not sure Hermione can even hear what he's saying. She just shakes her head, finally releasing her grip and stepping away from Ron. "No," she says softly, sadness in her eyes, "you don't understand."

That sadness in her eyes—it's enough to break Ron's heart. And there's nothing he can do about it. He can't make Hermione happy, and neither can Krum, apparently.

 _Gotta get you out of my head…_

Later that night, Ron finds his Krum action figure and tears an arm off, throwing it far away from himself. It's all Krum's fault, he decides. It's Krum's fault for having caught Hermione's eye; it's Krum's fault for making Ron look pathetic in comparison; it's Krum's fault that Ron lost his temper at the ball; and it's Krum's fault that Hermione is now so unhappy.

It's _all_ Krum's fault, Ron aggressively decides. It has to be—because the alternative is worse. The alternative (and possibly the truth—though Ron will do everything to deny it) is that he, Ron, is the reasoning behind all Hermione's unhappiness. And all of his own, too.

And his pride, and his wrath, is too powerful to ever think like that…

 _No_ , Ron decides, once and for all, _it's all bloody Krum's fault._

He's had a terrible night, and all Ron wants is to sleep, but the persisting thoughts keep him up. And there's still so much _anger_ within him. Anger at Krum, anger at Hermione, anger at himself…

But mostly Krum. Because, after all, it's all Krum's fault—he has to remind himself.

But, as he eventually drifts into sleep, it's not this thought that's in Ron's mind anymore. It's the overwhelming, frustrating, and heartbreaking truth that, despite what seemed like a brief reconciliation earlier in the common room, his friendship with Hermione might just be damaged forever…

And, deep down, Ron knows it's all his own fault.

* * *

 **Aha had a go at present tense. This is pretty great if I do say so myself—thanks Ever...**

 **~Buttercat**


End file.
